Stiles Stilinski's Guide to Flirting

Stiles meets Derek when he's sixteen. Over the next eight years, he tries to flirt with the hottest guy he's ever seen and fails to ever get it quite right. Written for DLanaDHZ.

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Inspired by DLanaDHZ's post on tumblr: post/137604694391/sterek-fic-ideas.

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#1 Start with a witty hook.

The first thing Stiles did when he spotted Derek Hale was smack Scott in the face.

"Hey!" Scott protested, taking a step back from his best friend with a scowl. "What was-"

"Dude," Stiles interrupted, gesturing wildly to the parking lot, where the darker male was walking toward the mall entrance.

Scott narrowed his eyes and frowned in confusion, making him look rather like a puppy. "Do you know him?"

Stiles scoffed and laughed at the same time. "Uh, no, that's Derek Hale." Scott just stared at Stiles blankly. "His family owns that giant house on the Preserve? They all moved to the east coast when we were six?"

Scott opened his mouth, probably to say something about how he didn't remember anything from when he was six, especially not some random guy from some random family, but then Derek was heading in their direction and Stiles panicked.

"Oh my god. Oh my god he's coming over here," he fumbled out, hurriedly whacking his hands on Scott's shoulder as if that would make Scott come up with some way out of this situation.

Smacking Stiles' hands away, Scott said, "Well duh, we're standing in front of the door. Just say hello or something and stop hitting me."

Nodding, Stiles took a deep breath and began walking toward Derek. Derek looked up from his phone when he noticed the movement and narrowed his eyes, though his expression was more curious than upset.

They stopped about three feet apart and Stiles gave a jerky wave. Derek waved the hand holding his phone and raised an eyebrow. For several long seconds, the two men just stared at each other.

"Hi," Stiles said, the sound bursting from him like water from a hose that had been kinked for too long.

"Hi," Derek parroted, still obviously not sure what to make of this random teenager walking up to him.

"So I was just wondering, but would you happen to be single or-," Stiles cut himself off, flushing a deep red. Derek's eyebrows were in his hairline now.

Clearing his throat, Stiles tugged on the collar of his shirt, pointed away toward the mall, and then turned and walked in that direction without a word. He walked straight past Scott, ignoring every sound that came out of his best friend's mouth, and in through the automatic doors. Or he would've, except that the doors didn't open fast enough for his hurried retreat and he ended up half making it through the doors and half colliding with the doors, making him spin around and flail his arms trying not to fall flat on his face.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Scott asked loudly, once Stiles had regained his footing.

Stiles raised his hand but didn't turn around. He was sure his entire body was flame red now. "Fine," he croaked out. Then he scurried away and hid in the men's room for ten minutes, until he was sure Derek would be long gone.

It wasn't bad enough that he was, like, nine years younger than Derek. He had to go make a complete fool of himself during their first meeting too. Great impression, Stiles. He smacked his head against the wall.

"Not that I don't totally understand, but if you kill too many brain cells then I'm gonna be the smart one, and that won't end well for either of us," Scott said from the doorway. He held up his phone. "Also the movie starts in four minutes and we haven't even bought our tickets yet."

Sighing, Stiles stood up straight and slid his hands in his pockets. "Okay, okay, I'm coming. But if you have Derek standing just outside waiting to ambush me, I'll never forgive you."

Scott gave an impish grin. "Would I do that to you?"

He totally would, but he hadn't. Derek was nowhere to be seen when Stiles re-entered the mall. In fact, Stiles didn't see Derek for the rest of the day, or for several months even.

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#2 Gauge their interest level before being too obvious with yours.

Cora Hale was in their class when school started up the following Monday at school, but she, Stiles, and Scott didn't become friends. They rarely spoke to each other. Cora had her friends while Stiles and Scott had each other. They spoke when necessary, but not about anything other than school or passing comments, definitely not about Cora's super sexy older brother.

Because that would be awkward.

Then the cliché of clichés happened: their history teacher assigned them pairs for a project and Stiles got matched up with Cora. Scott, who'd had to endure at least a dozen Derek themed rants, sent Stiles a beaming smile and two thumbs up but Stiles wasn't so enthusiastic. After all, this didn't mean he'd see Derek.

"You're coming to my house tomorrow to do the project," Cora announced as soon as they were seated together. "My mom's cooking dinner and she'll get upset if you don't stay for it, so plan on that. And if you don't pull your weight I'll chop off your nuts and shove them up your anus. I am not losing my A for you."

"Hey hey," Stiles said, hands dropping down to cover his crotch. "No castration necessary. I don't wanna lose my A either. History's one of my better subjects, even, and the project involves building stuff. I am so on that. We've got this in the bag. And I love food. Free food and I are great friends. Not as good as Scott and me, but no worries. I will totally eat anything your mom is cooking. So dial back the violent threats, okay?"

Cora narrowed her eyes at Stiles. "You talk too much."

A shrug, hands still covering his junk. "I get that a lot."

So the next day, after the final bell had rung and students were rushing out the doors and off campus, Stiles walked outside and felt all the air leave his lungs. Derek Hale was standing next to a black Camero parked in front of the school in the rider pick up area. He was just as hot as Stiles remembered him being at the mall.

He had a light layer of stubble all across his jaw and Stiles wanted to know what it felt like under his tongue.

A heavy bag hitting him in the back caused Stiles to stumble down the three steps outside the main school doors, but he didn't fall. Cora motioned him forward as she slung the bag over her shoulders. "Come on. My brother's giving us a ride."

Derek turned to watch them approach and Stiles waited for any hint of recognition to spark on his face. Maybe it was the sunglasses, but Stiles didn't see any. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

"Hi, I'm Derek," Derek introduced, holding his hand out to Stiles, when they reached him. "Cora's brother."

Stiles grabbed Derek's hand with a hand shaking slightly from nerves and excitement. "I'm single." He blanched and tried to pull his hand away but Derek held on. "Stiles! I mean, I'm Stiles. Hi, I'm Stiles. Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski. Oh my god."

Derek's lips curved up at the sides and Stiles really wished he could see Derek's eyes through his sunglasses. "Nice to meet you," Derek said at length, giving Stiles' hand one last shake before releasing it. Stiles resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands or smack himself for being so stupid. Again.

Cora rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, is right. You're ridiculous. Let's just get in the car and get this over with."

It wasn't until both Cora and Stiles were in the car that Derek got in himself. Contrary to what the image of the car gave, Derek was a very conscientious driver. Stiles kind of loved the incongruity. He and Cora worked diligently once at the Hale house and finished building a rather spectacular Circus Maximus a good twenty minutes before dinner was ready. Cora ribbed him at the dinner table and every Hale made him feel welcome, even Derek though he was the quietest of the bunch.

They got an A on the assignment – to no one's surprise – and Cora started hanging out with Stiles and Scott on a regular basis. One might even call them friends.

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#3 Pay attention to their likes and dislikes.

For Scott's 18th birthday, Stiles made them fake IDs so they could sneak into a club one town over. They could never sneak into a club in Beacon Hills because it's too small a town and everyone, literally everyone, recognized the sheriff's kid at this point.

Stiles had an active childhood, okay? Shut up.

Cora somehow convinced Derek to drive them over and go in with them, to make them being in their twenties more believable. Stiles wasn't sure how but he wasn't going to question it because what other chance was he gonna have to go to a club with Derek Hale?

Scott was so nervous as they walked in that he was shaking. Luckily, Stiles had put that today was his 21st birthday and was able to play it off as being his first club and him still nervous that he was gonna be kicked out or told he was too young to come in at all. Then they were inside.

The music was pulsing so loud that Stiles could barely hear himself think. The sound reverberated through to his very bones. There were flashing lights, the dance floor was lit in multiple colors, and yet the room was only bright enough to make out the people standing nearest you.

"There are no clubs in Beacon Hills like this," Scott yelled to Stiles over the music.

Stiles shook his head and leaned close to Scott. "That's why we didn't go to a club in Beacon Hills!"

Cora pushed them apart as she walked between them. "Let's get drinks already." Then she led the way to the bar, Derek trailing at the back of the group.

As soon as they had the bartender's attention, Stiles slapped his hands on the counter and ordered a rum and coke. Scott tried to order a coke but Cora covered his mouth and ordered a Miami Vice for him and a Sidecar for herself.

"And forget this idiot's rum and coke. He's only getting it to look cool," she said with a wave at Stiles, who pouted with a 'hey' that she ignored. "He'll have an espresso martini."

Derek leaned in close on Stiles' other side. "You'll thank her later," he said, causing Stiles to jump at his sudden proximity.

"Oh yeah?" Stiles asked skeptically. "How do you know?"

With a flat expression, Derek revealed, "She's been planning your drinks for a week." Then he shrugged and his face softened. "Also, it's coffee, espresso vodka, and honey. You have a disturbing interest in all things coffee, so you should enjoy it."

Five minutes later, Stiles had to admit that yeah, it was pretty damn awesome. By the time he'd finished the beverage, he was itching to move and dragged Cora to the dance floor while Derek stayed to guard Scott as he finished his strawberry and pineapple drink.

While they were dancing, with the music flowing through Stiles like something alive, Cora leaned in close to yell in his ear. "You like my brother!"

Stiles flailed backwards into another guy, but the guy barely glanced at him before going back to enjoying himself. Stiles said 'sorry' anyway, but it was mostly lost to the din of the music. When he dared look back at Cora, she was giving him her best 'I am severely unimpressed with you' look.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Cora shook her head and grabbed Stiles by the arms, forcibly inducing him to keep dancing while they talk-yelled at each other.

"I mean you want to date him," she clarified. When Stiles' face went pale with horror, she shrugged. "I think it's kinda cute. Also kinda weird and pathetic on your part, but still, cute."

Stiles waved his arms around wildly until Cora caught them and held them down while they danced. "Does he know?!" Stiles asked, panicking just a bit.

That earned him a scoff that he just barely heard. "Of course not. My brother is selectively oblivious," she said. "He notices that he likes people, but not that they like him back."

With a groan, Stiles spun in a circle and briefly pulled at his own hair. He'd let it grow a bit this past summer, so it was long enough to grab handfuls of. While in public, Stiles did his best not to imagine what situations would call for someone grabbing his hair.

"So what do I do?" he asked. "Because you're right, it's pathetic. I'm super crushing on a guy who knows me as 'his kid sister's classmate' and there's nothing I can do about it!"

Cora rolled her eyes and grabbed Stiles by the face, stopping both of them from dancing. "Go over and confess, stupid. It's the only way he's gonna catch on!"

"Go what?!"

The only response he got was Cora turning him around and shoving him back toward the bar where Derek and Scott were standing. Stiles stumbled for a few steps before steadying himself. Watching the bar, he took a deep breath. Then he marched over as casually as he could. Which wasn't much.

"I need a breather," he announced loudly as he joined them. "Scott, you go dance with Cora."

"What? Why me?" Scott squeaked.

"Because you're not her brother so it's not totally weird," Stiles said as if the answer were obvious. "No offense," he added to Derek.

Derek just shrugged with a small smirk while Scott groaned and rolled his eyes. "Fine. But I'm gonna look like an idiot."

"And that's new?" Stiles quipped, then grinned when Scott flicked him off briefly before leaving the bar to find Cora.

Scott had barely left when a brown drink was held out before Stiles, causing him to turn to his bar mate. Derek looked between him and the drink three times before it occurred to Stiles that he was offering him the beverage.

"Oh," he let out, taking the glass. "What is it?"

"A chocolatini," Derek answered. "It's Irish cream and chocolate liqueur and vodka."

Interest piqued and taste buds already excited, Stiles accepted the drink and took a long sip. It was sweet. He downed it much faster than he had the martini, Derek watching him with raised eyebrows.

They got into conversation after that, with Stiles already abundant word flow becoming almost a torrential downpour of babble. It was partly nerves over trying to find some perfect moment to confess and partly the vodka coursing through his body. Probably the vodka was making the nerves more prevalent. They talked about the movie they'd all gone to see last weekend and how now Derek didn't have to tag along for them to see a movie because they were all old enough for everything now. Stiles offered to continue to see horror movies with Derek anyway, Derek's favorite kind, which seemed to please him.

Then they talked about Stiles' plans for college after high school and his life plans after college. That seemed like as good an opener for Stiles to confess as any, and he leaned in real close so that when he said it, Derek would hear. He would definitely not be able to repeat himself if Derek didn't catch it the first time.

"I almost went professional with basketball," Derek was saying, giving his own life choices as some sort of advice to Stiles. "But I decided to come back here when my family did and work with the kids here. I'm glad I did it, or I wouldn't have met some pretty great people."

As he spoke, he turned toward Stiles and his breath caught Stiles in the face. Stiles wasn't sure what Derek had been doing all night, but it certainly wasn't standing at the bar and drinking. His breath was minty fresh, even three hours after they arrived.

"What kind of toothpaste do you use?" he blurted out.

Derek pulled back away from Stiles, looking one part offended and one part worried about his breath. Stiles scrambled to remedy the situation.

"Your breath just smells, like, insanely good, and we've been drinking and alcohol smells pretty rank on its own, and I don't know, maybe I should go buy whatever it is you're using because if you've been drinking and your breath still smells that good, it's worth its weight in gold, you know?" he babbled.

While his statements drew the bitter emotions from Derek's face, they also tossed the conversation about the future down the toilet. With it went Stiles' perfect opportunity to ease into wanting to date Derek for three years and then have a one year engagement with a small Spring wedding and a loft apartment with a dog and someday adopting a kid or paying to tube engineer their own biologically related child when science caught up with marriage equality.

He would've kept trying, but then Scott and Cora rejoined them and Stiles felt all his confidence get bottled up in his throat and no amount of prying could bring it back.

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#4 Compliment their sense of style.

The summer after Stiles started college, he got a job at the local youth community center tutoring the kids and teens there. They seemed to like him more than some of the other tutors, and Derek told him it was because he looked like 'one of them' – close enough in age that they didn't see him as one of the Adults.

Stiles had finished an afternoon's tutoring session an hour ago but was still hanging out at the community center, talking to workers and visitors and generally just people watching. There was a time when he'd dreamed of moving to the east, to Chicago or New York or Pittsburgh, of going to the big city and being part of big things. After Derek's speech about coming home and working with kids, Stiles had thought 'I want a job working with kids too.' He'd aimed higher – teenagers, but the idea was the same in his head. Still, he'd thought he'd be a teacher in a big city.

Only half the summer was gone but Stiles' point of view had changed. He wanted to be close to this, close to home, close to those he cared about. He'd apply to schools in Beacon Hills and the surrounding cities. He'd move home, or close to it, when he graduated from college. Big cities were noisy and crime ridden anyway. Good for a trip but not for the long haul, not for Stiles.

Another thing the big cities didn't have was walking through the door to the basketball courts with an entourage of middle school aged kids in tow. He was wearing a white tank top and black basketball shorts, and even from a distance Stiles could catch the light sheen of sweat on his skin from the games he and the kids had played outside in the heat.

Shit. Derek at twenty-eight was impossibly hotter than Derek at twenty-five had been. Stiles was so gone.

Once all the kids had dispersed, Derek glanced over and saw Stiles sitting at one of the tables where he'd been tutoring earlier. He wandered over and crossed his arms over his chest as Stiles rose to meet him.

"Shouldn't you be gone by now?" Derek asked.

Stiles shrugged. "Scott's busy with Allison. My dad's at work. Cora's not even in town. Besides, I like it here."

Derek raised an eyebrow, as if to question the legitimacy of Stiles' statement, but didn't say anything. Then his eyes traveled down Stiles' body, taking in his long sleeved, maroon Henley, dark jeans, and converse. It made Stiles glad he'd taken the time to try and look nice this morning, when usually he just threw on whatever shirts he found first in his closet.

"You sure you don't have plans?" Derek asked.

Stiles was pretty sure that meant Derek thought he looked hot and dateable, and he was totally okay with that. He shook his head. "Nope. Why? Did you want to do something later? With me?"

Wow, that was the smoothest he'd ever been with Derek. He'd practically just asked the man on a date. Maybe he was making progress!

For a few moments, Derek seemed to consider it. Like, actually consider it. As if Stiles, at nineteen, was now old enough and hot enough to ping on his radar and he might really want to spend alone time with him. Date time.

Finally, he said, "Well, you look too good to just go home."

So of course the next thing out of Stiles' mouth was, "Well, you've got sweat stains on your shirt, so you'll have to go home or-" and then choked on his own tongue.

A more apt person could've saved that blunder with something about how Stiles could accompany him and Derek wouldn't have to wear a shirt at all. Stiles was not an apt person when it came to flirting.

Stiles brought his hand up to his face in a smack so fast and loud it made Derek recoil in shock and drew the attention of the people nearest them. In a repeat of the moment they first met, Stiles turned on his heel and walked away with his face in his hands. He didn't run into anything this time – he was at the community center so often he could walk it blind – but he also didn't stop until he was at his Jeep.

Then he and Roscoe went back to the Stilinski house, where Stiles could flop onto his bed and scream profanities at himself and no one was around to judge him. Why did he suck so bad at this?!

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#5 Be romantic.

There had been a general cry of relief once the last of Stiles' group of friends had their two year degrees. They were all going for Bachelors or above, but finishing those first two years felt like an accomplishment, a sign that they could do this, that they would make it. So Scott and Allison and Isaac had decided that it required a celebration. It was decided that their whole group of extended friends would rent some cottages on the beach and spend a week that summer forgetting all their problems.

Scott, Cora, and Stiles went, obviously. Scott's on-again-off-again girlfriend Allison came, along with the guy everyone knew had a crush on Allison, and Scott's other best friend, Isaac. Danny showed up, as well as his boyfriend Ethan and Ethan's brother Aiden. The other friends Stiles and Scott had made in college – Erica and Boyd – were invited. Lydia, Stiles' first major crush and now close friend, and (sadly) her boyfriend Jackson, surprised everyone by joining in. Finally, Kira, a girl Cora met at college and who was still finding her place in the group, tagged along as well.

Derek was coming too. Stiles was happy about this because it meant he got to spend time at the beach with Derek, watching water drip off his muscles and getting in tons of oogling time while also being super romantic and thus giving him ample opportunity to confess without blundering it. However, he also knew that Derek had only agreed to go to the beach with a bunch of people nine years his junior because his entire family had pressured him into being the 'responsible adult' in the group making sure the rest of the 'new adults' didn't do something stupid while they were so far from everyone else they knew.

The beach cottages were quaint, raised on stilts in case of a storm and full of beach-life charm. They'd rented two of them and, in order to fit the fourteen of them, everyone was sleeping two to a room – three in the living room. In one cottage Danny and Ethan took a room, Lydia and Jackson another. Allison, Scott, and Isaac took the living room. In the other cottage, Derek and Cora took a room, Erica and Boyd the other, and Stiles was in the living room with Kira and Aiden. Luckily there was a fold out couch and a window seat in each living room large enough to sleep on, or it would've been the 77th Hunger Games every night to not have to sleep on the floor.

Stiles woke up the first morning to the mingled scent of salt water air and fresh brewed coffee. He turned his head and saw Derek standing in the kitchen with his sleep pants slung low on his hips and his shirt bunched up in odd places, and thought, 'Oh. There's my forever.'

There was a moment when Derek glanced into the living room and caught Stiles staring. Stiles even imagined that the corners of his lips began to lift. Then Erica and Cora walked in at the same moment and began to fight over who got to have coffee first. It wasn't loud or hateful, but it was enough to knock Stiles into full consciousness and break whatever mood had been building between him and Derek.

Pushing off the sofa bed while Kira woke up – Aiden was already gone, probably running – Stiles wandered into the kitchen with a "Morning," at Derek.

"Morning," Derek replied. "Eggs?"

Stiles blinked at the over easy eggs, still warm, on the counter. There was a soft 'pop' and the toaster presented them with four perfectly golden toasted pieces of bread. Stiles loved over easy eggs on toast. Derek did too. It was something they learned when Stiles and Scott spent the night at the Hale house back in high school.

"Holy cow, dude, your timing is perfect," Stiles complimented.

Derek shrugged. "I would've woken you up when the toast was done if you weren't already up."

Stiles stuck his tongue out briefly, then grinned and grabbed some toast and eggs for himself, leaving the other half for Derek. It was the perfect morning to start off this vacation.

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Four days later, Stiles and the rest of the group were pleasantly tanned and relaxed. They spent at least three hours every day hanging out at the beach, along with taking walks or playing volleyball or going into town to catch a movie or get food. Kira and Boyd read a lot while sitting outside on the porch of the cottages. Allison insisted on cooking something and Aiden came out as being a pretty good baker, saving their dessert on the second night. Derek, Ethan, Boyd, Erica, Allison, Aiden, and Danny went on morning runs while the rest of them slept in.

Stiles always woke up when Derek made coffee but he pretended to sleep so that Aiden wouldn't force him to go running too. Seeing Derek get mildly sweaty in the pre-dawn light was not worth the two hours of sleep he'd miss doing the run and then fighting over the shower later. Besides, he made up for it by swimming more than the others and literally running to the corner shop if they found out they needed something real quick. Stiles was their quickest runner.

The night of the fourth day, everyone decided to walk down the beach as the sun was just beginning to set. There were fire pits a few hundred feet away, on the other side of the big pier that always had a few jetskis and small boats sitting around it.

All the couples were paired up – Scott and Allison, Erica and Boyd, Danny and Ethan, Jackson and Lydia – leaving anyone who was single to just kind of wander in and amongst the others. Somehow Stiles found himself at the back of the group with Derek. Cora was a few feet to their right, walking in the wave line, but other than that they could almost be considered alone.

It suddenly hit Stiles that he and Derek were walking like the couples. They were paired up. And it was sunset, the most romantic time of day. And they were at the beach, arguably the most romantic place in the world. They were going to go light a fire and make s'mores and tell stories and look at the stars, a cliché romantic outing. This was really romantic!

His hands began to shake and Stiles clenched them into fists to stop it. This would be the perfect time to confess. There was no more rom-com moment likely to ever happen in his entire feeble existence. Yet he couldn't get his mouth to open. Every confession speech sounded dumb in his head – overdone or too cliché or sappy or not enough or just an off topic rant. Besides, if he started to talk, the others would hear, and that was so not the confession scene he'd envisioned in his fantasies.

Derek stretched his arms up above his head, causing his shirt to lift and show off a scant inch of tanned skin. He dropped them back to his sides with a long, content sigh.

"It's creepy," he said.

Stiles startled. "C-creepy?" What was creepy? The way Stiles was staring at him? Had he noticed Stiles was staring at him? Did he know Stiles wanted to confess?

Despite Stiles' internal panic, Derek simply waved at the group ahead of them. "You're all almost a decade younger than me, but I'm here enjoying the beach with you."

"We wanted you to come," Stiles argued, though he wasn't sure of its validity. Stiles had wanted him to come, sure, but Cora probably didn't, and most of the others probably didn't care one way or the other as long as Derek didn't try to coddle them.

Derek shook his head and gave a wry smile. "I've never had fun like this with people my own age. Not since I first started college, at least. It's pathetic."

Stiles jumped to defend Derek's life choices. "No it's not! A little sad, maybe, but not pathetic. You should get better friends."

That earned him a small, genuine smile. "I have better friends."

Then Derek was facing forward again, his eyes on the rest of the group. Stiles gulped. Derek meant them. They were his better friends. The urge to touch Derek was strong and Stiles didn't stop himself from following through.

He reached out, slowly, toward Derek's right hand. He'd just hold his hand. No noise, no declaration, no fuss. Derek could just let go if he didn't like it. Steeling his resolve, Stiles gave a little nod and shot his hand the last few inches toward Derek's hand with no hesitation.

At that exact moment, Derek paused his steps so he could see around Stiles to his sister in the water. He opened his mouth to say something but it got stuck in his throat because Stiles' hand had bypassed Derek's and grabbed Derek's crotch instead.

Penis.

Stiles jerked back so hard he actually stumbled and had to catch himself on his hands so he didn't fall in a flailing heap into the sand. He was up again in two seconds, waving off the concerned glances he'd earned from those in front of them. Except he waved with the hand that had touched Derek's penis and oh my god he'd touched Derek's dick!

Shit, he was hung.

Face fairly on fire, Stiles barely kept from smacking himself.

Derek cleared his throat. "Um." A glance over Stiles' shoulder showed there was a dusting of embarrassed pink on Derek's face too. "About-"

"We're falling behind," Stiles interrupted abruptly, walking with mechanical steps to catch up. "Don't wanna miss the s'mores. Nope. Wouldn't want that."

"Stiles."

Stiles jerked to a stop and turned around in one of the most fluid motions he'd ever managed. "It's a self preservation…thing. So let's not, okay?"

Derek didn't look pleased with Stiles' words, but he also seemed to understand and merely pinched his lips together and gave a terse nod. With a replying nod and a somewhat hesitant wave, Stiles turned and followed their friends once more. Cora caught his gaze and rolled her eyes. He frowned and pretended she didn't exist for the rest of the walk.

So much for romantic.

But damn, Derek had a nice dick.

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#6 Show off your sexy dance moves.

One year later, Scott was marrying Kira, not Allison.

Surprised?

Yeah, you and Stiles both.

Scott let Stiles plan the bachelor party, as he should, and Stiles decided that since they were all now legally allowed to get into clubs, obviously Scott's bachelor party should be at a club.

"I'll buy you a drink as congratulations!" Stiles said jubilantly, dragging Scott to the bar as soon as they were inside.

"Okay, but you know I'm not really very good at holding my alcohol," Scott reminded him.

Stiles pat him on the shoulder. "I'm aware, buddy. It's just one drink."

One drink for each of them turned into many for Scott. Aiden bought Scott a second drink, then Boyd, then Isaac because he thought drunk Scott was the funniest thing ever, and then Ethan bought him yet another because he's secretly just as evil as his brother. Danny grabbed Liam – a guy one year younger than them who worked with Scott and wasn't drinking tonight – and they both took Scott to the bathroom when it became clear Scott could barely sit up straight let alone function like a normal human being.

Stiles didn't know any of this was happening though, because he'd had three drinks himself and was currently on the dance floor with Aiden. Boyd had joined as well after a time. By the time of Scott's departure to the bathroom to cleanse his stomach, Stiles was sweating and dancing and so far gone in the music and the movement that almost nothing could break through to him.

Well, nothing except a guy who looked an awful lot like Derek joining him on the dance floor.

Stiles grabbed the opportunity and latched on to the guy. He was a mess around Derek, always saying and doing the wrong thing, but no one in this club cared. This guy didn't know that the real Stiles was a flailing mess. This might be the closest Stiles would ever get to dancing in a club with Derek Hale. So he grinned up at the guy and he nodded in return, and then they were dancing together. Stiles knew he was well on his way to full on drunk, but the way they moved together seemed perfected. When Stiles moved back, the guy moved forward. They turned at the same moment. It was like they were made to move together.

Getting really into it, Stiles wrapped his arms around the guy's waist and grinded against him. It was something sober him would never had been so bold as to do. The guy groaned and grabbed Stiles' upper arm like it was an anchor. But Stiles wasn't finished yet. He turned in the guy's grip, causing him to release the arm, and began to grind back against him so that the guy's dick – and huh, he was pretty big – would be all up on Stiles' ass.

Except he misjudged the distance and ended up pushing so hard that he knocked the guy clean over.

Upon hitting the floor, the guy grunted and said, "I guess I'm getting to old for clubs," loudly so that Stiles could hear him.

It sounded a bit like a joke but Stiles could only focus on the fact that he suddenly felt stone cold sober. That was Derek's voice. The guy who looked like Derek didn't look like Derek, he was Derek. Casting his gaze over Derek as the older male stood up again, Stiles wondered how he hadn't noticed before. He wasn't that drunk. Was he?

"Derek?" he asked.

Derek shook himself off and then noticed Stiles no doubt pale, stricken expression. "Stiles? Are you going to puke?"

Stiles shook his head once, then nodded once, slowly. He might puke. He'd just been shamelessly grinding on Derek! Well, Derek hadn't seemed to mind, not at all, but it was the principle of the thing. They hadn't even kissed yet! They hadn't even held hands!

Just as Derek leaned in closer and opened his mouth to say more, Liam pushed his way through the crowd and grabbed Stiles' arm, jerking Stiles' attention away from Derek.

"Scott's not feeling too good," Liam said.

"What? Why? What happened?" Stiles asked, suddenly in serious mode. Did someone drug Scott's drink? Was he okay? Stiles never should have left him alone.

Liam shook his head. "Everyone kept buying him drinks. The party in his stomach is more intense than the one in this club."

All thoughts of guilt fled from Stiles' mind and he frowned. "Why didn't you stop him? Ugh." Without waiting for an answer or even expecting one, Stiles pushed Liam's hand off his arm and said, "Let's go. Where is he?"

He left Derek behind him and didn't realize it for almost twenty steps. When he looked back, Derek was nowhere to be seen. Had Stiles imagined the whole thing? He asked Liam about it but Liam hadn't been paying attention.

"Your powers of observation are astounding," Stiles quipped dryly.

"Danny just said to go get you." And Liam shrugged like that absolved him of all fault. It totally didn't.

The next time Stiles saw Derek was three days later. Derek didn't act any differently towards Stiles and didn't mention the club at all except to ask if they'd enjoyed themselves.

'I must've been more drunk than I thought,' Stiles concluded, and passed the whole event off as a drunken dream.

…

…

#7 It never hurts to 'flirt' with the family a bit too.

The next time Stiles was drunk it wasn't even on purpose.

Every ten years, the Hale family had a big reunion party. This year, for some unfathomable reason, Cora had brought Stiles along as her date.

"Okay you're hot, but this is kinda feeling a bit like incest if I'm honest," he had said when she first asked him.

Cora had rolled her eyes and punched him in the arm. That hurt. "It's so no one asks me about my love life or tries to set me up with someone they know. I don't actually want to date you. I'm not a home wrecker and that'd be super awkward anyway."

She'd walked away before Stiles could ask what she meant by 'home wrecker' since neither of them was in a relationship. You couldn't wreck what didn't exist.

So now he was leaning against the wall awkwardly by the refreshment table set up along the back wall of the big meeting room the Hales had rented for the occasion. There were dozens of people around, most of them with Derek and Cora's dark hair and fierce eyebrows. Almost all of them burning hot. None of them had talked to him beyond a 'hello.'

Shit. What was he doing trying to flirt with Derek? Who was he kidding? It didn't matter what it seemed like sometimes, Derek wasn't ever going to go for him. He came from a family of Roman gods, a Jupiter here and a Diana there.

But Stiles had touched Derek's dick before, albeit on accident. And he'd been to a club with Derek where Derek bought him drinks. And Derek once said he was hot enough to date. Okay he didn't, but he'd implied it. So Stiles felt justified in holding a little hope that his future science babies were gonna take after their more muscular daddy and be so hot they cause house fires.

"I see Cora abandoned you pretty quickly," Derek noted as he came to stand near Stiles.

Stiles gave a short nod. "Yeeeaaap. I'm just decoration if she needs to point and say," he pointed at Derek and said, slurring a little, "That's my boyfriend standing over there. I don't need your crummy dates."

Derek's eyebrows came together. "Are you drunk?"

That made Stiles snort at its ridiculousness. "That's ridiculous," he repeated out loud, holding up the plastic cup he'd been drinking from. "For one, I've only had this one cup the whole time. And B, it's just tropical punch fruit drink."

Without warning, Derek took the cup from Stiles, though it was actually gentle enough that Stiles probably could have stopped him if the thought of pushing off the wall to get it didn't make Stiles' insides whine. Derek sniffed the drink and then took a small sip, which made Stiles go, "Hey," in a petulant voice.

"Aunt Corrine strikes again," Derek noted calmly. Stiles would even say Derek seemed vaguely amused. He set the cup down on the refreshment table, just out of Stiles' reach. "The day she capitalizes on how she makes alcohol taste like fruit juice, we'll be rich."

"You're already rich," Stiles pointed out, making Derek shrug. "Like really really rich, dude."

Derek reached out to him. "Let's find you somewhere the sit down before you pass out. Aunt Corrine's famous juice is enough to make most of the family fall on their butts in two cups."

As much as Stiles wanted to argue that he'd only had one cup and so he was fine, he was caught by how stunning Derek's eyes were in the sun bright lights in the room. He had lovely cheekbones too, and he'd shaved for this event so he looked about five years younger than he normally did.

"You're children are going to look so beautiful one day," Stiles said just as Derek pulled him in close to support him, so that Stiles words were a whisper directly in his ear, "if you have them with me."

Derek turned his head to look straight at Stiles in surprise. It was sad that Stiles couldn't even take a moment to appreciate how close this brought their mouths, or how easily it would've been to kiss Derek right then. He was too busy trying to pull away (which Derek wasn't allowing) and backpedaling on his words.

"Not that you need me to be hot," he rushed out. "You're hot enough on your own. I'm not saying you're ugly because you're really really not. You're not ugly. In fact, I'm probably the least una-the least attractive person in the room, let's be honest here."

He was trying to turn and unlatch Derek's arm from his waist so he could go hide with Cora for awhile, but Derek must have rope arms because no matter how much Stiles moved he was always still wrapped up and caught.

"And, and, I mean, we couldn't have kids anyway even if we wanted to right? Because science isn't up there yet and it doesn't matter what sci-fi and fanfics say, dudes can't carry babies for other dudes, you know? So unless we asked Laura or Cora to surrogate for us it's totally a no go, and Cora'd probably cut off my dick if I ever even asked her, which I haven't, which I'm not going to because that would be crazy to want to be the father of your child that much. I mean-"

"Stiles." Derek's voice was firm enough to put a swift end to Stiles rambling words that were perhaps revealing a bit too much of Stiles' inner thoughts.

"Oh my god, thank you," Stiles huffed out, hiding his face in his arm so he couldn't see Derek's amused expression.

Derek's arm tightened around his waist. "I'm going to find you somewhere to sleep this off."

With an embarrassed whine that sounded vaguely like, "Please," Stiles let Derek lead him from the room. He slept through most of the rest of the reunion in the back of Derek's Camaro.

…

…

#8 Be honest.

It becomes a running joke.

"So you're going to get your dick chopped off to bare my nephew's children," Peter says when Stiles sees him during the next Christmas break from school.

"I suppose it's nice to be appreciated," Laura comments while Stiles is at the Hale house watching a movie with her, Cora, Kira, and Scott. "I never thought someone would want me to carry their gay baby." Which of course meant that Kira and Scott knew and brought it up periodically too.

"The day you ask me to carry your baby is the day we're no longer friends, Stilinski," Cora warns him the summer vacation after that, when they've both graduated from college and are living in Beacon Hills full time again.

Even Talia Hale won't let it die. "I'm sure Laura wouldn't require a flesh sacrifice for conception if you asked nice enough," she tells him during Thanksgiving break when she runs into Stiles at the store.

Over a year after the fact, the Hale family members Stiles has regular contact with prove they have the memory of elephants and the sense of humor of corvids. Stiles is twenty-four, early in his second year of teaching sixth grade, and still blushes like a tomato every time it's mentioned. He wasn't drunk enough to not remember what he said, but he wishes he had been. If he didn't remember and didn't react to it, then perhaps they would've stopped by now.

At that moment, however, Stiles was more caught up in grading tests. His students had bombed the test on Tuesday, so Stiles had spent Wednesday and Thursday going over the information again before giving them the exact same test on Friday.

They'd bombed it again.

With a groan, another red 44% glaring up at him, Stiles closed his eyes and laid his head down on his desk. He didn't know what to do. His students had never done this badly before. He didn't understand.

There was a knock on the open door to his classroom and then Derek strolled in. "Hey," he greeted.

Stiles didn't even lift his head. He just groaned again into the wood next to his mouth. That's right. He was supposed to make dinner for everyone tomorrow night and Derek had offered to drive him to the store after work since Stiles' Jeep had finally given up the ghost on Monday.

"Aren't you looking wonderful today," Derek quipped, a level of sass in his voice that still caught Stiles off guard sometimes in its potency. Lifting his head, Stiles frowned. Derek crossed his arms over his chest and gave a grin. "Working hard or hardly working, beautiful?" he joked.

Stiles opened his mouth to make a joke. He really did. He was going to say, "Oh you know me," because Derek did know him and it really was a fifty-fifty shot whether Stiles was actually being productive in this room.

But as usual, the pathways from his brain to his mouth were on the fritz, and what came out instead was, "Oh please love me." And it was perhaps the most earnest sounding words his mouth had ever formed.

He wanted to die.

He'd been drunk before and could easily brush off anything he said while under the influence. He'd been young and stupid and hormone ridden so everything he said or did then was inadmissible. This? This was unavoidable. This was too explicit to ignore.

Then Derek strode the few steps between his place by the door and Stiles' desk. He put his hands on either side of Stiles' face and lifted it at the same time he leaned down. And they were kissing. Derek's lips were on Stiles' lips. It was closed mouthed and very chaste, but it was happening. Stiles only took half a second to respond and kiss back.

All too soon, Derek pulled away, though he kept his hands on Stiles' face. With eyes that were laughing at Stiles, Derek said, "I would but you keep running away."

A few seconds passed before Stiles remembered what Derek was responding to. Then his whole face lit up. "Really?"

A nod. "Really."

Stiles surged up out of his chair, bringing him almost eye level with Derek, and crushed their mouths together. He didn't care that the door was open and anyone could walk by. He didn't care that there were ungraded, probably failing papers on his desk that needed doing. He didn't care that they had errands to run today. All he cared about what Derek's lips on his and the fact that all his flailing and failing hadn't driven away a man he loved like the sun and the moon and the stars and all the nerdy references he could possibly ever make.

"Why didn't you tell me that before?" Stiles complained lightly between kisses.

Derek shrugged. "I'm not good at words."

That made Stiles laugh and they had to stop kissing to allow it. "Dude, Derek, take some of mine. I've got too many."

"Alright." A soft smile turned almost wicked in a moment and made Stiles worry. "You should definitely ask Laura to be the surrogate, because if Cora ever gets near your dick, I might have to hurt her."

Stiles groaned again and flopped his face into Derek's shoulder. It was never going away! Never! But wait a minute. Derek just said…that meant…that meant…Stiles stared up at Derek in shock and saw an amused but fond expression staring back at him. Holy shit.

Derek wanted his baby!

…

…

Fin.

...

...

Fun fact: Stiles' adventures in grading tests is exactly what happened to me this past week in my own classroom. Yay.